


Classic

by whiskyandoldspice (Itsirtou)



Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Car Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 19:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsirtou/pseuds/whiskyandoldspice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is an old-fashioned man with classic tastes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classic

James has always considered himself old-fashioned. Classic cars, classic women, classic guns. He drinks a martini and wears a two-button black tuxedo no matter the current fashion. He doesn’t mind clichés; he finds, in fact, that he rather enjoys them.

So on their third date, he takes Q out to a very nice restaurant, plies him with fine food and liquor until Q is all heavy eyes and sleek satisfied smiles, and then he fucks Q in the backseat of his car.

And Q is as sweet as any girl, gasping and open-mouthed and silky-skinned, slim hips so lovely in James’s hands. He’s so slender that it doesn’t seem possible that he could take a cock but he does, does it so pretty, throwing his head back and moaning as James presses inside him, hair sticking damp to his forehead. Grunts a little as he tries to get his hands free but James is good with knots, and he made sure that Q’s posh little tie was secure around his narrow wrists.

James loves Q when he’s quipping at James over the earpiece, snide little comments that leave James smiling no matter how hard he tries not to, but he loves Q like this, too: sitting on James’s cock and trying so hard not to come, smart mouth good for nothing but saying James’s name.

“F-fuck,” Q gasps as James thrusts up, his hips rolling awkwardly as he tries to get it deeper. His neat white shirt is open, cardigan pushed down to his elbows, angular sleek body twisting above James. Without his hands he’s got no grace to his movements but he’s nothing if not enthusiastic, pushing down and rocking back, impatient with the slow steady rhythm.

He curses again, filthy words in a proper accent, when James grabs his hips and pulls him down, pins him in James’s lap so he can’t move. James fucks into his body in tiny lazy rolls of his hips as Q shakes above him. Q flushes every time James fucks him, pink from his chest to his cheeks, and James can’t help but lean up and bite his red collarbones, suck a dark bruise into the vulnerable curve of his throat.

“Please, James,” and yes, that’s what he wanted, that’s what he was looking for, and Q cries out as James lifts him off his cock and slams him back down, all at once, and then Q is arching his back liquid-smooth and biting his lip red as he comes untouched, desperate and messy and hot on himself, on James, clenching down tight around James’s cock til his vision goes white and he loses himself in Q’s tight body.

Q collapses down onto him, sweaty and warm against James’s chest. 

“This car’s suspension is atrocious, 007.”

He sounds indignant. James pushes Q’s hair off of his forehead, traces the line of his cheekbone.

Q always did recover quickly.


End file.
